Quells: They Do Things To You
by MockingjayWands
Summary: The rebellion has failed. The Capitol has bombed Thirteen yet again. The Games are re-started. Twelve children. Only twelve children in these games. Easy, it seems, but more deadly as well. Who will die, and who will be victorious? Find out. All you have to do is click the title.


A/N: This is not an SYOT, so these are my own OCs. I could use some constructive criticism, so feel free. I would prefer no flames, but you never know. I also meant the 100th Hunger Games, but my sister typed 56. So yeah, this is a Quell.

District One Reapings- one tribute per District

Gemma Carson's POV

I wake up, feeling the bright sun warm my face. I stretch, and get out of my bed, and start brushing my hair. "Gemma! Come down for breakfast!", I hear my mother yell. We usually don't have breakfast until eight, but I can see why my mother wants me to get up. Mother, of course wants me to practice my knife throwing, and my ax throwing before the reaping. The reaping. This year, I didn't want to be called, because if you're called, someone will obviously volunteer. That's what I was planning to do. Give my family glory, by winning the reaping, and then the Games. I dashed down the pearly white steps of our house, and take a long sniff. Of course, my mother made her cranberry sauce-filled pancakes for breakfast. She always does on the morning of the reaping. Mother has mixed feelings about the games, because her sister was in the Games, and was killed. But in a few weeks, she'll have a daughter for a victor, so no need to worry. As I walk toward the table, I quickly sweep my hair behind my shoulders. I grab a long, silky handkerchief to use as a napkin, and start to eat my pancakes. "Excellent, as usual, Mother." Finishing my meal, I go to the storage closet and put my knives and ax into my tote bag, and head off to training. As I walk there, I wave to some of the locals. As I reach the training center, I see my best friend Kaylie. Giving her a slight hug, I slip inside, and get to my station.

Throwing the knives gave me a sense of purpose. I felt deadly, powerful. The ax, not so much, even though I could always hit the dummy in the heart. The knife was my weapon. The ax was my backup weapon. Gripping the handle of the silvery blade, I plunge it into the dummy's heart from ten yards away. I was interested in spears when I was younger, but gradually I became fascinated with knife throwing. I know it sounds kind of cliche, but knives gave me my purpose, myself. I started the ax throwing, so if I ever got in the Games, I had another weapon to use, in case I couldn't get to the knives. I see a boy, James Madison, shoot a dummy straight through the heart with a bow. He rarely comes to training, because for some reason he doesn't want to be a Career. I don't know why he wouldn't though. James could be an adversary, though. He's pretty handy with that bow. I walk up to him, sneering. "So, here's the boy who says he doesn't want to be a Career." It's idiotic. In District 1, we train to be Careers. He sneers right back, saying "Well, I guess you'd be one of the first Careers to die." How dare he! I watch the clock, and see that it's one-forty, almost time for the reaping. "You're lucky I have to go get ready for the reaping.", I snarl.

Darting home, and then up the steps, I wave to Mother, and get into a pale green dress, that matches my eyes, and shoes to match the dress. I quickly put my hair into a fishtail braid, and slowly walk downstairs, because the dress is slightly tight. "Mother, we should probably be getting to the reaping." The square is only a few blocks away, but I like to get there early. My mother gently brushes her hair, and then opens the door. Mother is a very sensitive person, the only one I'm really sensitive with. That's why I need to win, because my mother will break if I die. We slowly walk to the reaping, and as we finally get there, I sigh with relief. I am shunted into the seventeen-year-old section, breaking my handhold with Mother. I see the escort, Philippa, scuttle up to the stage. "Welcome, welcome. Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds-" _be ever in your favor. _The two mentors for District 1, at least for now, Cashmere and Gloss come out, smiling, grinning, blowing kisses. They were brother and sister, a rare feat, even for a Career District. As they take their seats, Philippa walks up to the reaping balls. I prepare to volunteer, hoping my name isn't called. "Willow Brians!" Good. It isn't me. I have no clue who this Willow girl is, but I lunge forward anyway. "I volunteer!" I see other teens look at me fiercely. If looks could kill, I'd be dead before I was even starting the Games. I walk up to the stage, walking through the crowd that parted so quickly. "What's your name, dearie?",asked Philippa. I replied "Gemma Carson, soon-to-be victor." She smiles, and I walk to the left of her, waiting for the Treaty of Treason to be read.

I vaguely hear the Treaty, but I don't pay attention. Why should I? I'm a tribute. I also have a better chance of winning, considering there will only be eleven other tributes. I have to win. For Mother, for my District, for everybody. I know I can win, but I'm still scared. What will happen when us Careers turn on one another? I could die. But I can't. I just can't. Winning is imperative. And to win, everyone else has to die first. The ones from the lower districts have a low chance, so it's likely that I will win. But, I just can't ignore the fact that I could die any minute, especially with less tributes. The more gone, though, the better chance I have. Oh well, Gemma Carson, signing off for now.


End file.
